


Unknown Destination

by Airmid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Background Destiel, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e19 Hammer of the Gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22198660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airmid/pseuds/Airmid
Summary: Many things are hard to hold onto. It's even harder to hold onto something he didn't even know he could still have.
Relationships: Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Gabriel/Michael (Supernatural), Michael & Adam Milligan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and decided to polish it up in light of what's going on in this last season. This story does not follow canon past Hammer of the Gods. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

* * *

Gabriel woke up somewhere unknown and wasn't that just a kicker because he had been fully expecting to not wake up at all. Really, that was the best-case scenario when your once beloved brother stabs you with your own blade.

It took a few blinks but he was able to see he was in some room that was covered in sigils, things designed to keep him in and prying eyes out and he faltered a bit. There was a distant pain, something achy and deep in his grace and he knew it was scarring over. A lasting reminder of just one more betrayal in the web of hate that tangled them all together.

He was even in his same clothes that he had thought he was to die in, green jacket, jeans, boots and his shirt that now came with a complementary hole, the edges hard with dried blood. His vessel’s blood and if he looked closely he could still see slight burns – no, no he wasn't going to look that closely. Just like right now was not the time to question the whole, well, being whole problem.

It was the realization that he couldn't feel his wings, to even attempt to escape that took his breath away and he staggered to his feet, panicked.

All of him was still there, he could feel his grace but not use it and finally, the heaviness on his neck and wrists broke through the terror and he held his hands out, sleeves pulling back on his arms a little. There were circlets engraved with ancient markings, things whispered of but so rarely used that many of his brothers thought they were only a myth. His fingers felt his neck, finding the same there. No beginning or end, no way to get them off and he knew what they had been made out of.

The only other thing in this tiny room barring the walls and a bare bulb was a door. Try as he might it wouldn't budge, his body lacking angelic strength and the markings over it baring exit even if he had it.

Sliding down a wall he waited. It was all he could do.

* * *

Lucifer appeared the next day. At least he was pretty sure it was the next day because his sense of time was jacked up from not having access to his grace. Which was all sorts of wrong for an angel.

“Hello, little brother.”

“What do you want?” _How am I alive?_ His mind silently added.

“Oh Gabriel, I control Death. Do you think I would let you die in a hotel full of that heathen scum?”

“Well, kind of a hard call there since you were all too eager to ventilate me.”

“As I recall, you were trying to stab me first,” Lucifer clucked his tongue and squatted next to him. Gabriel resolutely stared ahead. “Come on, little brother, didn't you think there would be a price?”

“And you're judge, jury, and executioner?”

“No.” That mouth was so close to his ear that it took a lot to not squirm. “I want you to know what it's like to be a cockroach. Like them.”

“Looking for something new to step on?”

“I want you to teach you so you understand. I want you to join me.”

“Kind of already got my fill on insanity the first run around,” he panted, feeling a sharp tug on his head, Lucifer's cold fingers wrapping around his scalp. He really shouldn't say that, he knew better. He knew but he couldn't help it.

“You have such a mouth, Gabriel. It is something that we will correct. And we have time,” Lucifer said quietly, Gabriel wondering how much time his brother really had as he burned through that vessel. All those lesions and he wondered if it was because Sam Winchester was close to breaking.

Oh, Father.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the crazy in the pale blue ones staring at him. He should have helped them more; he should have done something to stop this thing that claimed to be his brother.

“Let's begin, shall we?”

“Couldn't we discuss this over breakfast? Preferably something with extra syrup and -”

The scream exploded out of him as he felt Lucifer's blade slash across his chest. He couldn't keep it in and he prayed that maybe Death would be kind enough to take him this time.

* * *

He was a mess of blood and grace on the floor and wasn't it just ironic that his grace could be leaking out but he still couldn't do anything with it? There was a hysterical laugh trying to bubble past his lips but he swallowed it back, the pain grounding him a little even though everything right now felt distant.

In this room with no sun, he had lost track of time but it still flowed onward, marching towards that inevitable conclusion that he would die here. He had cried out to his Father, to Raphael, Castiel, even to Michael though he feared the last as much as Lucifer. A terrified part of him thought Michael might join in with this, that he was this lost, and given the state of Dean Winchester at times it wouldn't come as a surprise.

No one came, and he panted against the cold floor, Lucifer standing there watching.

“Am I pretty enough, Luci, or do you have work to do yet?”

It would do no good to egg on his brother but if he was going to die here he was going to die like a damn angel, not some broken wreck. Or worse, turn into that thing in front of him. That monstrosity of twisted black grace that still wanted to believe it was an angel. That they were family and this was love.

“You still talk too much, Gabriel. We'll have to do more to rectify that.”

There was an involuntary shudder in him, knowing the extent his brother would go to try and get him to beg. This body, well, this body had never been about to take home the virgin of the year award but what it was now -

He cut off that train of thought before it reached the station and tried for a smirk at his brother.

“Good to know you get off to something, Luci,” he said right before he felt a hard kick to his ribs. He sucked in air, the pain exploding and coming roaring back and he forced himself not to curl up, to not look submissive.

“Really, Gabriel. This is for your own good. Get up.”

His body sent the message that it was refusing that command at this time and he tried to force back the feeling of helplessness. There was another hard kick though he doubted telling Lucifer that that wouldn't speed things up would help at all in this situation. Somehow he managed to push himself up to his knees and felt a cold hand on his shoulder, deep ice of hate against him, and he did shudder.

“Actually, I think I like you like this,” Lucifer said, his voice merry as he gave a gentle shove, putting him on all fours. “Submissive, just for me.”

Something was breaking in his mind; he could feel his grace crying out in desperation for Michael even as he tried to quiet it. Those cold hands on him, that mouth by his ear and he willed himself not to crack, not now. He wouldn't be this.

“Michael isn't coming, little brother. He abandoned you, just like he did to me.”

A sob unbidden escaped his throat as those hands lazily stroked down his exposed body then suddenly they stopped as a flash went past him. There was the sound of something being slammed into the wall and he turned in time to see an overgrown teenager there pinning Lucifer, his sword through the latter's chest.

Michael. He couldn't see him in that vessel in his state but it was him, he would know that power leaking through those pores anywhere.

Lucifer's mouth formed a small 'o' in surprise as Michael withdrew his blade, Morning Star sliding down the wall leaving a trail of blood. As the grace begin unraveling Michael turned, flaming sword still in hand to take him in. Gabriel felt so exposed, his brother's dying cry ringing and deafening in this small room as his light finally flashed out. As the eldest of all of them made his way to him, Gabriel scrabbled back, wanting to get away.

Not like this, he couldn't die here like this. Not by those hands.

A small frown creased Michael's face and he looked down at his sword as if realizing it was still out. He was wearing a tall, lanky kid with sandy hair who had a look of being far too young to be mixed up in all of this. Gabriel was fairly certain that it was their half-brother that had met an untimely death by ghouls before he had known about him. It meant Sam and Dean were angel free and at least the world wasn't going to burn.

That thought calmed him a bit. Maybe he could be ready for this.

“Go ahead,” he said and Michael's face became more vexed.

“Little One, what has he done to you?”

“What hasn't he done? So you know, if you plan on ganking me let's get this party started. I know you have paradise to raise and things to rule.”

Michael looked back down at his sword and to Gabriel's surprise, it disappeared as his brother came towards him. He couldn't help but flinch as Michael crouched down and reached out to him. Something flickered in those features before they became carefully blank again.

“I cannot take these off of you until you are stable.”

“So you don't want to kill me?”

“I would never hurt you.”

And, wow, Gabriel was inclined to almost believe him. Almost.

“Sure, Mikey. Whatever you say. Not like stabbing someone is the only way to hurt them or anything.”

There was that look again and he wondered how much control his brother was exerting to not look like he felt anything. Last time he had seen him he had felt that same coldness which Lucifer had grown into a full-blown blizzard. He doubted little had changed.

“You should rest.”

He tried to push back, to get away from that hand, but the wall stubbornly refused to stop existing and the last thing he saw was Michael's blank eyes staring at him as his villainous vessel betrayed him and obeyed.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

With the grace drawn in and bound, this body in his arms felt too light, too human, and he worried that more damage was done then what he could see. Gabriel's light, that laughter that always filled heaven was now dull and sluggish. It quivered whenever his own tried to get near and he forced himself to concentrate. He must get them safe, somewhere that they could not be found.

Before he left he had to look and so he turned to see the empty eyes of his brother's clandestine vessel staring back, wings scorched across the wall. It was the remains of something he had once loved, the blood forever on his hands. There was no satisfaction in this death, no sense of peace, just a deep hollow carved in him a little more as what was once the brightest of heaven was gone forever.

The scent of burning grace and death were palatable in the air and it took all his will to walk forward and crouch before Lucifer, Gabriel still slumbering in his arms.

“I am sorry, brother. I wish we both had followed different paths.”

Then he spun the two of them free from this place, instantly feeling lighter as the restraints of Lucifer's wards slid away from him. Free. For this short while, he was free, both of them were and he cast his vision to look for safety.

There was a small cabin not far that seemed rarely used in a wooded area. He flew, his arrival noiseless in the dark interior. Nothing was here except the small creatures of nature. It would do. He laid Gabriel on the bed momentarily and focused his energy allowing the land, the walls, to bear his mark so that only Death and Father could find them, not that either had much interest in them anymore.

With this done, he returned his attention to the still form with him. Gabriel's vessel was naked, covered in filth, brutalized, and there was still blood drying on his skin. His grace was battered, he could see it small and weak in a way it should never be bound inside that body. He raised a hand to clean and heal him with a thought but stopped.

No, this needed something different, something to wash off that stain that had been forced on him on so many levels, even if it was never known. Gabriel did not need to wake still bearing traces of it.

He opened the door and found the bathroom adequate to his needs. He flew again to find what he needed. It took less than a minute but still, he had a fear that by the time he returned that something would have happened. That he would be gone, taken again, and he scolded himself for having such irrational thoughts. He couldn't help the relief that flooded through him when he returned and Gabriel slept unaware.

He turned on the tap of the tub, running his hand through the stream to adjust the temperature as his brother could feel it much more acutely in his state. It was only temporary and he would not awaken from his rest but he had no desire to make him uncomfortable. With the water done he added what was needed to create a sacred blessing, something so often forgotten in these times, even by heaven.

Perhaps humanity and angels were not so different when their answer to everything seemed to be war.

He stood, going to Gabriel and picking him back up in his arms. There was a slight murmur before he settled back down.

“You always had a word for everything,” Michael told him, slipping him into the water and using his grace to keep him comfortable and safe. “All I would hear some days were complaints about how you never shut up. And then you would get sad when I would reprimand you, tell you that they had their duties and you were to leave them alone. As if I could ever make you do anything.”

He took a soft cloth and began to wash his brother, starting with his feet. It was slow, they had time right now. Before Gabriel awoke and things fell apart again, they had time. His hands took off the layers of grime, ensuring the flesh was repaired and trying not to focus on the grace that curled up and shrank away like a wounded animal inside this still body.

“If only I had known, Gabriel, I would have put you to sleep much sooner,” he said, trying not to choke on the eons of silence that was truly between them. “I would have been heaven's most favored angel.”

There was a soft whimper, Gabriel still bound to the whims of his vessel and Michael paused in his washing to touch his face gently. Threads of a nightmare slipped away and Gabriel made a soft, contented noise.

“I think you and only you would be proud of the fact I had to lie to find you,” he continued, taking one of his brother's hands to clean. “Though in my defense, it was Adam's idea in order to get his brothers to help me.”

He paused, hands still working off that filth that was more than physical and listened. It was Raphael wondering what had happened. If it was true. He would deal with that soon enough. There had been too much torn apart by his fallen brother, twisted by his own failure to protect him. So much bloodshed in the name of purpose and obedience and Michel breathed in, not wanting more of it. At least not for tonight.

“He wanted – he,” his voice trailed off again and he shook his head as though that would help his clouded grace. All these emotions he had not allowed himself to feel for so long, they could not be shed right now like a coat.

If there was one true sin he had ever committed – and heaven help him there was more than one – it was that he had taught them that they were cold and only had love for Father. Because love, any love outside of that absolute, and maybe even with it, would rip open everything if given a chance.

“I see why you love humans now, Little One,” he said instead, washing that face taking in the soft lines of Gabriel's vessel. How it suited him, able to be mirthful, demanding and menacing when it had to be. “Despite what I had done, Adam comforted me in my grief. Though his mouth, I think, would give yours a good challenge trying to keep up with the way he runs it at times.”

He threaded his fingers through the shaggy blonde hair, the dirt sliding off the strands at his touch before he reached for the oil. A gift from Father to the humans for use in the most sacred mysteries and he blessed his brother, wiping away the last of what darkness Lucifer had tried to bleed into him.

He allowed the water to drain away as he pressed his lips to Gabriel's forehead and let his human eyes slip closed for a moment. He took in the scents of the oils and perfumes, of his brother safe even if it was just for these few hours.

Michael made himself pull away calling a forgotten towel from a nearby cabinet to his hand and he dried that flesh under his hands, careful not to jar. Pulling Gabriel back up into his arms he searched Adam's memories for something comfortable to dress him in and he thought he found an acceptable idea as the warm cloth materialized and shrouded the body so that it would no longer be on display.

“I released him right before I came for you,” he whispered walking to the bed. “I would not endanger his soul any more than I already had.”

Gabriel was cradled carefully in his arms, head against his chest, Michael leaned back against the headboard. That little grace inside his brother was brighter now but it still feared him. It would always fear him now and it was surprising the restraint he had to use on his vessel to not let out a cry. This was something he should have guessed at but it had still come as a shock when he had watched Gabriel crawl away from him, as though he could ever hurt this.

“But I did, didn't I?” he finished out loud. “I did and I lost you long ago. I know that now it is enough to know that you are alive.”

His hands made gentle motions in small half-circles on Gabriel's back, some instinct of this vessel that bled through, as they sat in the darkness waiting for dawn. After this, he knew he would not touch this vessel again and he would never feel Gabriel's grace slid against his own. He did not deserve such a thing after what he had done to his heart and he was surprised when a broken sound rang out. It was a moment to realize that it came from him, unable to control it anymore and he buried his face in Gabriel's hair. The pure scents were still there and he inhaled deeply for they were as much a part of his brother as his grace was now for as long as he had been here. For what he had given up.

After tonight, he would not get another chance and he would cherish this last gift.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

He woke up and his first thought was to get away. Lucifer was coming and he had to go. That was until he was tangled in bedsheets and since when did his fallen brother think of comfort?

“You are safe here.”

His head snapped over to that voice, Michael, by a window watching him quietly, carefully keeping distance. It all flooded back and Lucifer was dead. His wings a big imprint on some prison wall and he clutched the sheets around him, his body and grace were still achy.

Had Michael left their brother, what was left of him, like so much trash in that place?

“It will be a couple of days before you are fully healed. I did not think you would want to return home so I brought you here.”

Here looked like it was some sort of cabin in the middle of nowhere and not close to the type of luxury he had surrounded himself with during his Pagan days. Everything was roughhewn, an unfinished look and slightly dusty. Probably some human's that didn't come around very often. All of it was in this one room: bed, sofa, table and chairs, small kitchen which looked like it had been installed during the Nixon years. There was a door that he assumed was a bathroom but otherwise it was all very plain, done up in drab earth colors. Gabriel made a mental note to decorate for the poor slobs when he left.

If he could leave.

“Then what?”

“Then you are free to go. I only ask that you stay quiet until then so you can heal.”

“What no free trip home? You're losing your touch, Mikey.”

“I did not think you would go.”

With that, his brother was gone and Gabriel found himself all alone here. He tried to swallow back memories, of things he had locked away deep inside and pushed himself out of bed. Michael had actually cleaned and put clothes on him which was surprising as his brother rarely thought of things so mundane. Looking down he just stopped at the sight of dark blue fabric with little space ships dotting it.

Either Michael had suddenly developed a sense of humor – very unlikely – or he was just that out of touch with human fashions and Gabriel sighed petulantly. This was almost embarrassing, though not the most embarrassing thing he'd ever been caught in, not by a long shot.

Everything looked so boring here and if he wasn't so tired he'd be upset he wasn't somewhere like Vegas with at least humans to watch and gambling to be done. When he got a few steps across the floor he realized there was something on the table. Chocolate.

He closed his eyes and promised himself that he would leave when these things came off. It felt bitter.

* * *

Michael had come around a few times so far, never saying anything, just watching. The self-righteous ass had at least brought copies of his original clothes so he could ditch the little lost kid look.

It was becoming infuriating, especially since being in the middle of nowhere meant no TV, no radio, no nothing. There were a couple of books here but they weren't all that interesting, just about surviving in the woods. Part of him had thought about wandering off but he couldn't even get a read on where he was without access to his grace. With the shape he was in Michael would only show up and drag him back.

This silence wasn't great on his nerves as his thoughts kept slipping back to Lucifer. That hadn't been his brother, he knew that. Some rational part of him could recognize that fact; understand that it hadn't been the fires of hell in the end but Lucifer's pure greed and hate and pride that made him that black, murderous thing. The thing that he had feared Michael had been turning into to and still did. It felt like the walls might slam down on him at any moment.

He was restless and it was getting damn annoying.

Outside it was fairly nice, springtime and he was sitting there wrapped up in a quilt that smelled like mothballs because he was still feeling pesky human things like the cold. There was a slight sound of air moving and Michael was there, stoic as always. He wanted to shake his brother, scream at him but he turned his attention back to watching small birds frolic in the budding trees.

“Why'd you even bother?”

“I do not understand,” Michael said, tilting his head and he wondered if that's were Cassie had picked up that bad habit. “Why did I bother what?”

“Saving me.”

“I would always come for you.”

Those words were soft like he couldn't believe that Gabriel would have thought any other way. Like he couldn't remember when there was a time the eldest had become cold and hard and fallen just like their lost brother.

“Took you long enough.”

“Little One, I could not hear you,” Michael answered and Gabriel jerked his head up at the gentleness of those words. It looked like Luci had been at least telling the truth about something.

“So how'd you come flying in there for that daring rescue, Batman?”

“Death.”

“Death?”

“My obstinate vessel had just taken his ring in a deal to reopen the Cage, so he was a bit freer than he had been,” Michael answered and Gabriel had to smirk at the distaste over having to mention Dean from his brother.

“Why would that old poof help?”

“He said he had decided to up the stakes, and that I would be interested to know he had just prevented the eternal death of an archangel.”

Gabriel fingered the edges of the quilt, not really wanting to look over at Michael or really to keep talking but he wanted to know. Plus, it was better than that boredom of sitting here staring off into the middle distance and he pushed down that restless feeling inside him a little more.

“So how you find me then? Guessing Death didn't just give you a map with a big star marked 'he's here'.”

“No. I spoke to the Winchester's.”

“Bet they were happy to see you wearing their brother.”

“It was – awkward at first.” Gabriel let out a small laugh at that understatement. He bet Dean was waving a gun and screaming while Sam just stood there and looked sad and angry. “When they finally listened I told them their brother was with his mother in heaven and they told me what had happened. I apologize that it took me so long to find you.”

“Yeah, well, I guess you came,” he said trying to make his mind blank.

Michael still stood there but his gaze shifted to what Gabriel was watching, the birds and trees and he knew his brother could hear their song right now. Of life and growth and he ached to be free, to get away from all of this and wrap himself up in the life of Earth again.

“You killed him.”

“Yes. He hadn't been our brother for a long time. I had the element of surprise so I used it.”

So clinical, like he was talking about removing Lucifer's infected appendix instead impaling him on a fiery sword. And so, so like his brother, to detach and not feel and that urge to just hit him until something changed filled him again. Nothing was different.

“So when's the raising of paradise?” he asked after the silence had lingered on like a bad date. “I'd rather not have front row seats for that.”

“It will not be.”

“What? What about your grand plan, your whole destiny that Dad left behind -”

“You do not want this destroyed or changed.”

Words stuck in his throat as he tried to understand what his brother had just said, had just done, and he felt that old fear in him of their Father.

“Michael.”

“Father isn't coming back, Gabriel. If he ever does then he can raise paradise but until then, I see no reason not to allow life to continue as it is.”

He chokes back ' _I'm sorry_ ' and can't look. He can't look at Michael who's still staring out at the trees and all of this. Favored above them, favored to the point of being allowed to make mistakes, to not know that God had abandoned all of it. Or maybe he hadn't, maybe he was on a beach drinking and laughing with Death about how stupid they all were.

His brother was moving towards him and he tried not to cringe, to drawback, hands still resting on the arms of an old battered wicker chair kindly left by the real owner of this place. To his surprise, though, Michael kneeled down next to him and pressed his face against one of his hands. He was so warm, always so warm, heaven's fire and Gabriel made himself not reach out and touch.

“I never stopped looking for you.”

He stayed still, not moving because he couldn't forgive. Not this, not with what had happened. They stayed like that until the sun began to sink and Michael flitted off to where ever the hell he went when he wasn't here.

Gabriel cursed his current state, this damn humanity as he felt something wet on his face.

* * *

Sleep wasn't foreign to angels but they rarely needed it. Or rather deep meditation as what they did wasn't really close to human sleep, Gabriel mused. He wanted out of here badly, to be away, and in this state he did sleep, so he slept even if it was unnerving, needing this process to go fast. Now he was opening his eyes to soft light coming through the two large windows in the cabin. Michael was there, seated at the table with his back to him and he made himself not say anything smart ass.

“You have healed well enough. We can remove those and return your sword to you. The rest will mend over time.”

“And then?”

“As I said, you are free.”

He got himself out of the bed and walked towards the still form of his brother who had yet to turn around. Free. That was the offer; he never had to go back. Something felt crushed inside him at that like he wasn't wanted anymore. Slowly he placed a hand on Michael's shoulder, taking him in. He couldn't see him all folded up in there right now, not like he was, and he wondered what state Michael was in.

He pushed the table back and slid onto his brother's lap, subtle lines appearing on Michael's face as he tried to figure out what was going on. Gabriel touched him, his vessel's face and hair, that thin wire in him snapping that was holding him back, making him crave feeling that grace against his own again. For a second Michael leaned into the touches before he stopped himself, his face falling blank.

“Damn it, Mikey,” he growled and tilted Michael's head back, the archangel still stoic, eyes staring like they were seeing nothing here.

He wasn't dead yet and he was pretty sure there were a lot of times that could have happened all over again. A feeling he couldn't name got stronger in him as the last parts of his self-preservation slid away. 

With another growl, he kissed him, wanting any reaction, the lips under his unmoving. He felt hands on his wrists. It took a moment to realize that his bonds were being shattered and his grace exploded out, his form expanding before settling back into his vessel.

Free. He was actually free and he managed to not just spread his wings and fly simply to bask in that sensation alone.

“You owe me nothing, Gabriel.”

He could see his brother and he looked so small, so curled up, as though he was trying to disappear and he couldn't help it. He kissed him again, gently this time, allowing his grace to reach out to find that fire, to spark it, to draw it out. After a moment he felt a hand on his back, pulling him closer, that warmth he had missed for so long. He drew back, seeing Michael there, his eyes half-closed, burning slightly brighter.

Then he was being moved off, Michael was standing and his face unyielding.

“Michael -”

“I know what my punishment is now, beloved,” Michael said quietly. “It is alright to hate me.”

He was gone and Gabriel knew he wasn't coming back, not this time, and he screamed, his voice shattering all the glass around him as it felt like being undone all over again. Michael hadn't been wrong. He couldn't help but hate him. Even as he coursed with love for him, he still hated him.

His sword lay on the table, he had missed the motion that set it there during all of that. He picked it up, allowing it back into his grace trying not to feel it. That caress of fire against his being, a bright wound in the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Months flowed by and he felt more alone than when he first left heaven. At least then he had understood what he had been running from. And it wasn't like he had a full day planner. After Luci's little rampage and mass outing, it wasn't like he could go back into the arms of the pagans any time soon.

Lucifer.

Most days he managed to not think about him, about how little he had felt when he died, Michael not even looking. It seemed so wrong, like if an archangel died it should leave a hole in the entire friggin' universe. Not some small blip on the radar like a falling star in another galaxy that no one even turned a thought to, no matter what he had done.

It took a lot most days for Gabirel to not focus on just what his brother was at the end, on what those hands did to him.

Instead, the earth kept spinning around and around, things carried on and he felt like he had no place anywhere anymore. He had gone to spy on the Winchester's, finding them through their Robert Singer and they looked okay. Well, as okay as those two could because he was pretty sure nothing in their life had ever been okay.

In a strange moment of weakness, he had even left a rare book for Sam, complete with a packet of M&M's, knowing the boy would get it. He was sharp; they both were no matter how Dean tried to hide it with his obnoxious mouth.

It wasn’t like he could send a card that said ‘sorry for all the torture, thanks for the rescue assist.’ He was fairly certain the humans hadn’t gotten around to making one that didn’t sound insane.

What he hadn't been expecting was the way the giant had stared at the book then crushed it to his chest like it was some sort of lifeline, whispering 'you are alive, thank God' and all that relief flooded through his grace because Sam had prayed. He prayed it to him and Gabriel couldn't help feeling guilty that this kid he had abused in his cowardice even gave a damn about him.

So he tried to think of ways to distract himself, like catch up on TV series that he had gotten behind on because of that whole apocalypse shindig. It wasn't like he couldn't go back to tricking, he could still pose as a trickster, and he didn't need to hide from Michael anymore. In fact, his brother came to earth every so often and he knew where Michael was.

There were times when he wondered if he was the only one who did during these trips.

He was on earth now and Gabriel was surprised at where he was. There was that dull ache in him that kept growing and growing and despite his better judgment he flew. Michael was seated in that old wicker chair on the porch of the cabin where they had spent their last time together. He was in a younger version of John Winchester's body. No, that wasn't right. Gabriel looked closer and could smell the earthy scent from it, the lack of it ever housing a soul. A replica, something to contain him since he didn't have any world-ending fights planned.

He wondered when his brother had finally learned that little trick and from where. Thankfully, it was after the whole ‘need to wear my true vessel’ phase of all this. Why he had changed he didn’t know, perhaps it was an ‘Adam didn’t like his body prancing about unoccupied ‘thing.

Not like his brother typically cared, but he wasn’t sure about a lot of things anymore.

This body, it suited him better, Gabriel thought. The black hair, sharp intelligent features, commanding, well from what he could see from this angle as Michael sat with his legs under him looking out at the forest. His brother didn't even turn to greet him but he would be a fool to think that he was not aware he was there.

“Didn't peg you for the sentimental type,” he said, snapping up a lollipop so he'd have something to focus on.

“It's protected.”

“Hiding are we?” He can't help but raise an eyebrow even if Michael didn't turn to see it.

“Just some time away. It has not been easy and Raphael is having difficulties adjusting.”

“Yeah, he was always a smite first, questions later kind of angel.”

“He wasn't always,” Michael's voice was almost emotionless and Gabriel stilled, remembering the quiet healer who turned himself into a weapon.

“No,” he allowed, “not always.”

“He did not believe me when I told him you were alive.”

“You should teach him permanence. Just because someone leaves the room doesn't mean they blip out of existence.”

“We felt you die.”

He closed his eyes because yeah, that had happened. If good old Luci hadn't had Death all up in chains he would be a smear on the cosmic highway of existence. He didn't know what to say to that. Could he apologize for his own death? Really, he had gone to save the vessels, to give them a better chance, or at least a chance at fixing everything as much as possible. It was better than what his family got.

“Why did you come to see me this time?”

“Social calendar was empty today.” He shrugged. “Why come to earth, I mean outside of ducking Raphael for a few hours?”

“I allow its existence; can I not visit what I saved?”

There's that old arrogance and he wanted to just throw something at his brother. That he didn't own any of them, especially not the humans who could figure out to forgive. Granted, they were better at death than forgiveness but they still could forgive. They found ways when there didn't seem to be anything left. The Winchester's were proof enough of that.

“Why do you make it so difficult?” he ground out and Michael turned to look at him fully, his face blank, hands clasped in his lap.

“Make what difficult?”

“Why must you make it so difficult to love you?”

“I am what I am. I cannot help that.” His brother returned to looking at the trees. It was fall and they were in magnificent shades of red and yellows now, glowing in the late afternoon sun, the air turning sharper as the days cooled. “I am sorry that you cannot find it in yourself to love what I am instead of what you want me to be.”

“I do love you.”

“You fear me,” Michael said, voice quiet, and Gabriel bit down, shattering the candy in his mouth, the little pieces sharp on his tongue. “You thought I had come to kill you. Even now I can feel you afraid that I will drag you away, force you back home. Hurt you.”

Those memories, the ones he tried to keep down and away were stirred back up. Not the ones of his loving brother, the one who laughed, and basked in heaven's radiance while Gabriel was folded up in his wings. No, that one was long gone, dead, kaput.

These memories now were the ones of eyes that were ice, the ones that said he would do anything even if it meant killing them all if Father asked him too. Those eyes that refused to understand why that was terrifying, more so than the fighting that was slowly shredding everything.

That Michael, yes, that one he feared a great deal. More so than even Lucifer.

“You would have tossed me in the Cage just as soon as you did Lucifer.”

“You speak as though it was easy, as though it was what I wanted -”

“It was easy because you just did it! If Dad had asked you to bash my head in with a rock you would have without a thought. All of this, all this pain and suffering and you trying to be perfect for Him, to be the good son, while the rest of us withered and died around you. And you wonder why I fear you? If He showed up you would just as easily kill me as you would have then and for what? To please Him?”

He was so close to blasphemy if not enthusiastically embracing it. He knew he should be stepping on nerves here that were short and brittle in Michael but to his surprise, his older brother didn't even move. None of that anger that had plagued them in the last days before the war, thunderous voice shaking everything to its foundations before the weapons flashed.

There was no tension, his grace still small and curled up in there like he still wished to disappear on himself.

“I would sooner put my sword through my heart than hurt you in any way again,” Michael finally said, still not moving and it felt like the earth had dropped out from under him. “I would think you would know this by now.”

“How?”

Suddenly Michael was right there, hands on his face, those blue eyes staring down, down into him, like he was reading his grace as a book and Gabriel flinched at the intensity. He was torn between just taking him and fleeing and his indecisiveness made him frozen. Watching Michael, seeing if he would finally snap and maybe one of them could be at peace.

“I killed him to save you and only you. He was so gone that I barely felt him die behind me but he was still our brother and you thought, you thought I would do the same to you.” Michael actually let out a laugh that was so bitter it seemed to shatter and shred into him. “Father made me a warrior but I mourn all the lives I have taken. I did not have the luxury, Little One, to sit out, to run away. I had to hold out my sword, watch them die in my arms over and over again. I cannot get the blood off and the one thing that brought me peace, the one thing that I clung onto was gone one day.”

Gabriel swallowed thickly, any snark he had left in him died on launch looking at Michael, that face still so impassive hiding everything that he was feeling. He wanted to shove him, lash out, make his brother show something, something to prove that these weren't just words.

Michael's hands slide off his face and he willed himself not to beg for their touch again.

“I love you, Gabriel, I will always love you, I always have too much, I suppose. Lucifer was always jealous of such a thing. It would have been a great feat to break me, to bring you back as a slave so my attention would turn to him and only him. Everything to adore him.”

“Michael -”

“I felt like I was dying when you went out when I felt your grace scatter. I could feel your pain as my own but by the time I got there you were already gone, just burned images on a floor in a building full of the dead.”

He tried to push down the grief that was ripping through him and he reached out but Michael merely sidestepped him and he let his hand fall back down useless at his side.

“There is no divine mission anymore, no destiny, no Father, no us. There is nothing left but to keep it running till time runs out. Which I suppose is how it has been for a long time now.” That hand was back on his face and Gabriel let out a soft sound that even he didn't know if it was a whimper or plea. “I love you, but I know you cannot look at me that way again.”

They stood there and he didn't know what to say, to reassure Michael that they could. They couldn't go back to what they had but, damn it, there had to be something, something they could hold onto. Then there was that head tilt and Michael made a small exasperated sound.

“I must go. Behave.”

He was gone in a wing flap and Gabriel found himself sitting in the chair his brother had been occupying, staring out across the fall colors, the trees stretching up towards the sky. He summoned a candy bar and tried not to relish the fact that the tattered cushions were still warm from the heat of Michael's grace.

* * *

  
“Ahhhh!”

“Sssh, Sammy, try to keep it down, will you? I'm still mostly off the radar and your giant girly screaming isn't helping anything.”

The younger Winchester just glared at him from over the top of his laptop, his ridiculous hair slightly in his face and he narrowed his eyes. Gabriel sighed and flopped down in a chair across from him, careful to look unconcerned. Sam barely looked different, same poor dress sense made up of plaid and jeans, same lumbering frame, same sad puppy eyes that should be out melting the hearts of all the girls.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you're still alive even if you are an ass but what are you doing here?”

“Bored. Thought you'd entertain me,” he said and smirked at the eye roll he got. “How's Cassie?”

“Good. Great in fact since he's not falling anymore,” Sam said and Gabriel carefully concealed his surprise, since that took a little more oomph to correct than even Michael had. “He and Dean are out on a date.”

“Finally,” Gabriel said and Sam laughed.

“Yeah, I thought that too when they finally recognized they had a big epic gay love going on. Was about to go nuts from all the eye-fucking. Pretty sure that’s why Michael told him he was to stay with us.”

Gabriel actually laughed, though he was uneasy if Mike was indeed encouraging such a thing even if it was a couple that couldn’t reproduce. His brother playing the part of cupid added all kinds of new questions to whatever was going on with him.

Michael was quickly become a layered worry, like an onion you didn't want to peel because you just became more uncomfortable the further you went and Gabriel wasn't certain if the core was rotten or not.

“Well, at least there's a happy ending to the apocalypse.”

Sam's face turned serious and he seemed to be staring hard at him, like trying to see something that his human eyes weren't meant to see.

“I know you died. I – I felt it.”

Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised. Seeing what his scum bag brother had done to try to poison his soul it would make sense that Sam would pick up on certain things. And a dying archangel would definitely be a high pitched frequency. At least one that wasn't so twisted that it could be considered an angel still.

“I did,” he said because what the hell else was there to say? “But I got better so let’s not dwell on the whole death part.”

“He's really dead?” Sam asked and there was desperation in that voice like if Gabriel had come back Lucifer could too and this whole nightmare could start all over again.

“Yeah, kiddo, he's really dead. I watched him die.”

“But – I mean wasn't the only way to kill him some big world-destroying fight?”

“Apparently the element of surprise works well too,” he said trying to look casual. Like what Michael had done hadn't totally thrown divine plan and purpose down the crapper. “But hey, it's done and the world is safe so don't think too hard over it. Wouldn't want to fry your hair.”

That got another scowl but he could tell the kid was thinking really big thoughts. He was careful, he didn't want to go shuffling around in there right now, not when he was trying to focus on looking normal and that took far more focus than it should have.

“Why aren't you with Michael?”

“What makes you think I would be with Mr. Stick Up His Ass?” he asked, his smirk widening as he cursed the boy's intelligence and the need to just talk to someone who didn't hate him, who still prayed to him. Sam prayed little things to him, cautious at the start. When no angry angels had appeared, the boy had just prayed, something earnest that Gabriel rarely got to hear.

If he reflected on it more, it was probably why he had decided to flutter over, the kid's prayers like some weird form of angelic catnip. And that was also why he wasn't going to broach that issue with himself, ever

“It's just that, he seemed so desperate to find you. I mean, he's like Cas, not really showing emotion but you could feel it. Dean was so unhelpful, yelling, but I got him to not be a prick and we told him about what had happened, all of it. He then asked the weirdest question,” Sam paused and scrunched up his face. “He wanted to know if I was dreaming of Lucifer and when I said yes, he asked where I would be sleeping that night.”

So that's how Michael had found him. He worked it backward, finding the thread of grace Lucifer used because even hidden it wouldn't be hidden from him and then began to track down his brother. It probably still took a while as he doubted Lucifer did that to Sam from where he was held but still.

“He's off running heaven.” He applauded himself for not sounding bitter as he shrugged. “Keeping Raphael in line last I heard. So what are you two yahoos working on?”

Sam looked thoroughly unconvinced over this change in topic but let it drop for a moment, bless the boy.

“Um, well some alpha's have gone missing. That along with a rumored big play in hell kind of have our attention because of the power vacuum, but we're not sure what's up.”

Gabriel mused on that, glad to have something else to think of. Though why someone would be off stealing alpha's he was unsure of or the connection to hell. Not surprising that the Winchesters would find themselves in another mess, though, because destiny had a funny way of coming round and biting you at the worst times and places.

“Always landing ass first into problems, you two.”

“I guess. Don't suppose you have any ideas?”

“Can't say I do, sorry Sammy,” he said standing. “Though, since I owe you one, I'll tell you if something falls in my lap. Don't expect more than that.”

“It's Sam and okay,” Sam said and then looked down, his fingernails biting into his palms before he looked back up. “You should be with him,” he said, looking like Gabriel might smack him.

So not the conversation they should be having. Not that he wasn't partial to this human, especially since he had helped Michael even when it was still possible that Michael was going to screw over everyone anyways. He'd come whenever this boy or his overzealous brother called out for help, at least eventually, and he sighed inwardly.

“Not everyone gets to be Cinderella and marry a prince.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“I know it's not my place -”

“It's not.”

“But I mean he – he stopped everything for you,” Sam pressed on seemingly unable to stop.

That boy with his idiotic hair feathered in his face with a mixture of abject fear and hope, hope for him and that seemed to murder something a little more inside him. Somehow he reeled in his rage and desperation and smirked, looking as unconcerned as Michael looked like stone.

“If I ever need a relationship counselor, Samantha, I'll be sure to look you up.”

There was a small huff of exasperation and then, “Thanks for the book.”

“Meh, might as well give it to someone who reads that crap. A bit dry for my tastes. Sorry I can't stay and annoy your brother.”

“I'm sure he'll be longing for your return,” Sam replied dryly.

He took flight and landed back in the small pocket on earth that he called his own and curled up on the sofa. At least one person didn't completely hate him as he snapped the TV on.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Adam was playing with a dog he’d had as a young child in a well kept front yard as Michael watched, reluctant to disturb him. Not that Adam’s family lineage didn’t manifest here as the child became aware of him regardless of how hidden he was if he was in this heaven. Michael tried to convince himself it was due to his former possession but something deep in him knew that wasn’t right.

His heaven was connected to his mother’s and he knew Adam checked on her from time to time, making sure she was well. He created what he wanted to here. Adam was not the first to have this ability, but it was a rare gift to have.

There were even thoughts as to the weather in this space. Currently, it was early summer, the air warm having lost the crispness of spring but not burning heat or humidity so many humans find uncomfortable. His favorite that Adam had made was still Christmas. Snow always falling, never collecting more than a few feet outside, the house had been filled with greenery and soft white lights. Adam had joked that it was so much easier to decorate when he could just think and it was there. It hadn't been that elaborate when the boy had been alive, Michael knew, but it was something he craved, the house full of scents that Adam associated with the holiday's.

It had been in this time he had been allowed to wake his mother, take her to this place and speak with her.

“Heya.” There was a bright smile greeting him and Michael stepped fully forward, allowing the veil to leave him.

“Hello, Adam.”

An eye roll and Michael already knew there were internal comments as to formality.

“Raphael has changed vessels.”

“Did he, like, heal the last guy or leave him a drooling mess?”

Michael could see the trepidation in the boy’s face, knowing full well that Raphael was still terrifying not only to humans but to most of the choir.

“Yes. Her past vessel is alive and well, though it took a while to piece his life back together.”

“Really?”

“I assisted as she is not as well versed in many things.”

“Or didn’t care.” Adam winced, and Michael knew that there was still some fear, the idea that he could not speak when Adam could say anything and he would never raise his hand.

“True.”

The child bent down, picking up the dog still at his feet, scratching it behind the ears and earning a small sound of contentment. They were at the house he had last lived in, exactly as it was outside of the small things created for his amusement when he chose not to be asleep.

There was a tilt of the head and Michael followed him up the stairs and inside, away from some of the prying eyes if any came to see what he was doing. Adam poured coffee for the both of them, created as the best cups he had ever had even though Michael had yet to find drinking anything enjoyable, unlike Gabriel. His little brother always loved their food even before he vanished.

He forbade himself from looking back.

“So, what’s with the change in vessels?” Adam asked, seating himself at the table, Michael following suit.

“She felt that since I spoke to a soul she should have one of her own. The one she had been with she felt was incompatible to her nature.”

Adam let out a loud laugh and he knew the child was thinking most things would be incompatible with Raphael.

“I’m not sure I’m glad we started a trend, here. So, it’s a ‘she’ now?”

“Yes. She demands to be called that as her vessel is currently female and she feels that we should honor that.”

A long stare, Adam calculating something before shaking his head. “How worried should we be about that soul?”

“She has calmed now since she has changed vessels.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Michael thought of his sister, her grace that had been turbulent and dark turning into something brighter, flowing smoothly against all the heavens up here. The young ones were less likely to draw away from her, some even seeking her as she offered the comfort she had been designed for all those eons ago. It was something he had not felt from her in so long and did not know he had missed.

“She still friggin’ terrifying, just saying. I mean, if she shows up declaring her eternal union with her new soul buddy, I’m going to really consider setting up shop somewhere else.”

Michael smiled at him, something he had learned how to do from his own experience. “I do not see why that would be frightening.”

“She’d probably want to come over for dinner,” Adam whispered, looking truly afraid now. “I keep waiting for her to suddenly be here and want to bond or something. Seriously, I’m not sure to be happy or more afraid that she’s all cozy right now.”

“Raphael will not hurt you.”

“Doesn’t rule out a visit.”

Adam shuddered again before looking at him, his eyes narrowing and he wondered what he was seeing. This kitchen was almost confining and he disliked being confined, even if it was an illusion of a soul that took comfort in it. Yet, even with that, he felt a strange feeling of safety, that no matter what he said, this soul would not reject him.

Adam had demanded, after all, to have all his memories, claiming that he did not want to feel tricked into thinking their time together had been better than it started off as, he insisted on knowing those terrible days.

“Wanna talk about how things are going after you got your own meatsuit, unoccupied to boot?”

No, he did not want to discuss it. It had been hard enough when he had come to Adam wearing this vessel, those eyes that had been hard as he had explained what he did, even if it meant having to deal with John Winchester again. At least the man had been placated that his sons were saved and the earth stood with Lucifer dead.

Lucifer.

Those empty eyes of his brother as he put his sword in him, not even a question, not even alive anymore and it had been him that had done it, trapped him in a place of no life and then wondered why Lucifer had become a hollow thing of only rage, insanity, and an emptiness he couldn’t place.

His little brother, ravaged by what he carried, and none of them could love him enough, not even Raphael, to stop him from gleefully giving into the madness and tearing out her heart.

“Mike.”

Adam was closer now and Michael realized he had let his attention slip back to his memories instead of watching in the here and now, a rarity for him. It was grief still fresh and Adam himself, he believed, that could allow such a thing to happen.

He considered lying but he did not wish the long, long ramble from this boy when that was discovered.

“He hates and fears me.” 

A terrible admission, one he was loath to make. He had not told Raphael of this, that Gabriel would always hide from them. He barely told her their little brother was alive and had disliked the look she gave him, a mixture of pity and worry that he had gone mad.

The sensation of feeling Gabriel’s grace flowing out and scattering was still a raw wound.

“Maybe he just needs time –“

“I was different then,” Michael said, not appreciating how low and grieved his voice was.

Adam shifted, leaning closer, those eyes a mixture of worry and the unease the child still had for him even if it was evaporating ever so slowly.

“I know what you are,” Adam said, taking his hand.

“Adam, I –“

“I know what he is to you,” the boy stubbornly went on. “I know what we thought happened before the devil decided to be even more of an ass. And now you’re up here moping, like that’s going to do –“

“I would have killed him at one time,” Michael said, appreciating the look on Adams's face for a moment. “Forced any of them to do anything with a word, taking even their existence with so little effort. You know much about me, child, but not of that time, and it is what he sees when he looks at me. It was easier then to be cold, to obey, I believe.”

“Because you didn’t have to think,” Adam shot back, looking angry and Michael didn’t understand why. “You didn’t have to do anything. There weren’t consequences because you didn’t care. It was right, they were wrong, and you flitted around with that for way too long, I got to say. Don’t want to meet you like that. I would still rather take the pissed-off version of you because at least we got somewhere in the end that wasn’t everything on fire. At least there was something left of you to talk to.”

He paused, taking a breath while Michael watched him, wondering where he was going with this.

“What happened with us – “ Adam cut himself off, shaking his head. “It was luck.”

They sat in silence, Michael contemplating his coffee that he will probably eternally despise, trapped in a strange feeling of admiration and fury that Adam was right. Perhaps if he found the right words, they could cease this talk of things that were not to be.

“Anytime I am with him, all I feel is his want to run.”

“He still comes to see you though, right? He shows up or at least pays attention to when you go and watch the earth to escape whatever Raphael is doing that day.”

Michael stared at him, hands back in his lap. “Yes.”

“It’s – just that it’s going to take time. If you were different and all.”

He appreciated this child’s faith but in the end, he knew at the moment he saw Gabriel try to escape from him, the way his grace was in agony of even being near. There was no going back but he had not the heart to say it. Adam could keep his faith alive, it may be centuries before he let it drop but eventually, he would when the truth became bright and unavoidable.

It was as clear to him now as much as the fact that Father was gone and never to return. What he had done to displease Him he would never know, but he knew it had been him in the end, the first of all of them, that drove Father away. He had once been willing to do anything for Him, and there was true terror in him, the first he had ever truly known, that he still might fall back into what he was if He returned. All of this had destroyed his sense of clarity, of being absolute.

So much of what he had once loved was gone.

“Mike.”

The word was whispered and he felt a hand on his face as he looked up. Adam’s face was pained. For an instant he wanted to school himself, hide it away, but he let the boy see. This child had been with him, felt him, and he allowed him to witness his grief here in these few seconds, to perhaps share it so it would stop consuming him.

“So, what’s Raphael doing with this new vessel that’s she attempting to meld with?”

Michael appreciated the change in conversation. “She has begun following the Cupids on their missions.”

“Cupids?”

“You would never forgive me if I took you to meet one,” Michael replied, enjoying the skepticism Adam displayed. “They would be the equivalent of overly excitable children with a one-track mind for love.”

“And she’s hanging out with them?” Adam let out a groan. “How worried should we be about her?”

“I am unsure,” he answered honestly, pushing Gabriel from his thoughts as they turned to his sister, settling more in this kitchen with this soul.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

Tricking was easier to fall back into then he thought it would be. 

Maybe it was because it was he had done before for an eon, almost letting himself believe that he had been always Loki and his past life as a thing with wings and heavenly wrath was just a simple hallucination. That it hadn't been him that had commanded swaths of heaven, following Michael's word, wanting to be able to cut himself off like his brother and bask in Dad's desire with no question, no doubt as to if he should be doing what he was doing. That he was just a simple deity in the end.

Almost.

Sinful humans were a commodity that was never going to run dry. It was something that he could fill in idle hours and all his hours were idle now because there was no place for him. No one was coming for him, no fear and hate for what heaven was up to. Dad certainly hadn't shown up and told him off. Gabriel wasn't sure what he would say if He showed up but at this point, it would probably get him smote. The only reason he knew He was still paying a modicum of attention was Castiel's upgrade and he wondered if Michael took it as a sign. Some kind of big flashing billboard in their faces that screamed 'ha, I didn't even care enough, in the end, to tell you if you did the right thing'.

Everything had been building up to a big crescendo, a big world-ending finale promising the end of all this, the ushering in of a new age, and then all of that was wiped off the board. It felt like a hollow victory.

He really needed to find something to do with himself to keep away the crazy. Before, he had been waiting for that final crash to come down and sweep him along, uncertain of what would be of him afterward. Now, there wasn't even that background worry that he'd be impaled next to Lucifer and he shuddered a little, the long-held apprehension still in him.

Seriously, he needed to sort out his identity crisis because the loneliness was worse, so much worse. He shoved aside thoughts of not belonging to anything anymore and decided to find a human in serious need of reform and/or punishment.

The brothers had disliked him making his tricks fatal. Dean had gotten up in his face one day demanding to know if he was still doing that. He wasn't. There wasn't a real answer for it, maybe it was seeing Lucifer at the end. There was a pleasant thrill when the real nasty ones got it, staggered off after in some kind of stunned silence, vowing a better life. It did give him something to keep tabs on, to watch.

Michael was back on earth and it was hard to not immediately run to him because that ache had grown to the size of sinkhole threatening to swallow everything up that was him.

He made himself wait a bit before touching down a few feet away from him. His brother was back at the cabin, inside this time on the sofa staring out the window at the slightly early snowfall in the gloom of twilight. With a sigh, he snapped his fingers, a fire starting in the fireplace, casting shadows and light across them. Michael looked over for a minute before returning to his watching of the storm outside.

“Did you know alphas are being taken?” he asked after the time between them stretched for at least an hour.

“I have heard whispers. Do you know why?”

“Yet to figure that out. Along with some power play in hell, the whole thing smells a bit too ripe.”

“Where did you get this information?”

“Winchesters, about three weeks ago. You know them, bloodhounds always on the scent of some sort of ultimate destruction.”

There was a slight nod but no other movement between them.

“I will send out some units to investigate.”

They lapsed back into silence and he cursed himself for not knowing what to say. It felt like he was reporting in instead of talking to – to, well, whatever Michael was to him now. He wasn't even sure if he was considered anything other than tolerated outside of knowing he was here and being allowed to come.

It felt like enough time had passed to watch a universe grow and die before Michael spoke again.

“Is that all you came here for?”

Something inside him finally ripped apart and he was in front of his brother, pulling him up roughly. Michael only watching him with stoic eyes when he spun them around, pushing him against a wall and kissed him. It took a moment but he felt those hands on him, that mouth open a little, hesitant and unpracticed. When he pulled away he could see the confusion on the brother’s face in the flickering light of the fire.

He craved all of Michael, everything he ever was, even if he still felt Michael would destroy him in the end.

“Gabriel, what-”

“Don't talk.” It was a plea as he pressed their mouths together. His hands fumbled for Michael's shirt, pulling it open barely hearing the scatter of buttons on the floor. “Please, don't talk.”

Those earnest eyes looked at him and Gabriel kissed him down his neck before leading him towards the bed, still kissing and touching whatever part he could reach. He laid Michael down and began working his way down his body, wanting to feel that grace wrapped around his again, to know all of this again.

The hands were uncertain on him and he looked up seeing Michael watch him with interest, never making a sound.

“Have you never done this before?”

“No, but I can see you have a lot of practice in your infidelity to me.” Those words sounded harsh but there was something like a glint in those eyes.

“Necessary for my cover.”

“No, it wasn't.”

Always so honest and he'd hate himself a little more if Michael's hand hadn't led him back up so he could be kissed deeply. He went back to kissing that warm body, fumbling with Michael's slacks and, fuck, this must be what awkward teenagers felt like and Gabriel snapped them away. All the while those eyes watched him without shame, a sense of command still in them. When Gabriel ran his hands up him, all he got was a small intact of breath, Michael still holding himself back. Always in control

Gabriel so wanted to break that control.

He slid a slick finger inside while he took Michael into his mouth, using his grace so there was nothing but pleasure, hoping Michael was letting himself feel the sensations of flesh. The cry that ripped out, raw and real and somewhat inhuman made him shiver. Looking up he saw Michael with his back arched, hands gripping the sheets panting.

“Gabriel.”

With his free hand, he laced their fingers together and could feel how tight Michael was holding on, his fragile bones would have longed snapped if he was just this body. Those breathy moans, the low cries of his name and he was almost over the edge himself.

He waved away his clothes, moving up that lithe body and saw some trepidation in Michael's face. Those lips looking like they were trying to form words and he kissed them silent. He couldn't listen to promises right now.

“I won't hurt you.”

Their hands were still laced together as he entered his love, and that grace unfurled inside. That radiant energy Michael had been keeping so wrapped up was out and it flowed over him. It took so much not to lose it from that. It had been an eternity since he had truly felt this. He stopped, kissing that neck, that mouth, as he felt everything his brother was and the honesty of this was another sword through him.

Somehow, Michael still looked so pure beneath him after it all, those slight whimpers and legs locked around his waist as though if he stopped, if he let go, Gabriel would fly away. He would never leave the sight of this, not now when it was laid out before him.

He moved, feeling Michael cling to him, those eyes watching him through hooded lids. Lips parted and Gabriel swallowed up the sounds that rolled off them because he couldn't think coherently right now. He could still sense some fear and he pulled himself together long enough to really look at his brother.

“Let go,” he whispered and Michael did, spilling between them with a strangled cry of his name, true voice bleeding through just under it, as Gabriel was washed over with that fiery purity kept so long from him.

Everything was hot and tight, the heat of grace and flesh. He slipped over that edge basking in it all.

After, when he could focus a bit better he slid out, getting a small protest, as he rolled onto his side with Michael following him. His brother lazily kissed him, their graces still tangled together. Michael's eyes were closed, his expression close to bliss and he could only dimly remember the last time he had seen Michael like this. Long before the fighting had reached a fevered pitch and Lucifer stomped his feet like the brat he was to bring everything down.

He couldn't help himself from nuzzling against Michael, his face pressed up against that warm chest with those arms wrapped around him, a leg was thrown over his hip. It hadn't been like heaven where they had been all woven into each other, lost for days and not caring but it was still good. At least he was pretty damn sure it had been good seeing as how his brother had the muscle tone of overcooked pasta draped over him right now.

It was safe and he took it all in, the feel of this, what Michael smelled like as a human which was earth and rain and something distant like the sharp crack of ozone. Though he wondered if he had been down here too long if he was using the same terms to describe a landmass as his brother, no matter how huge he actually was.

“What was that for?”

“Just wanted to do that with you,” Gabriel answered, and felt fingers gently massaging his neck and back.

“This doesn't change anything, Little One.” Michael's voice was soft after a few hours and those words shattered the little world he had built up for them. He knew he was clinging to Michael now like a child and he was stupid, stupid to think anything was ever going to change. Like they weren't destined to burn just like Lucifer.

“Why? Why can't we have anything?”

There was a gentle kiss on his forehead and then Michael was slipping away. He couldn't hold onto him any more than a man could hold onto water. He never could.

When he looked up Michael was standing by the bed fully dressed, his expression sad. Gabriel felt those fingers weave through his hair one more time and then he was alone. He sat in the bed, the fire still going, snow still falling in the night giving the outside world an ethereal glow and he promised himself he wouldn't grieve. Not again. Especially not at the irony of this, that he was the one left behind this time.


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

Things had settled into a routine and he figured after the whole earth ending deal it made sense that it would take a while for things to feel normal or sort of normal. At least he had a schedule now.

Stop asinine plan to open Purgatory to decide the true ruler of hell – check.

Nudge people in the right direction or to ruin – check

Catch up on TV – check

Visit Sam – check

That last one, well, he hadn't planned on it happening but it did. He thought they were both lonely, Sam slowly losing his brother in some ways to Cassie and him? Well, he really didn't have anyone after his mass outing and Luci's little slaughter-fest. Sam, bless his soul, even started carrying chocolate just for him. There was something about that that made him happy.

He had actually convinced the overgrown excuse of a man to tell his brother about the woman he had met, even if Sam had been dragging his feet. He had worked so hard to earn back Dean's trust but even good secrets could turn things sour. And he really didn't need Sammy more angsty than he already was. That kid could be his own soap opera at times, probably with good ratings, too, as women tended to love that over groomed man look.

Plus, he was tired of being the only one privileged to Sam's gushing monologues about her and how wonderful she was and that she knew he was a hunter.

He really thought Deano should get to share in that joy.

It was something that he decided not to dwell too much on since he happened to be in front of said overgrown man child at that current moment. He was sprawled out on the bed, watching Sam research something they were hunting while staying in another no-tell motel and really, they did not want to know what these stains were.

“You know, you could help,” Sam complained for at least the hundredth time so far.

“Come on, Sammy, then it's not you solving it. Next thing I know, you'll be calling me to fix a hangnail. Nuh-uh, your big brain can figure it out.”

“Fine,” he muttered, turning back to his computer. “Be that way.”

Gabriel turned his attention back to studying the bumps on the ceiling, biting back a comment about how he had so totally helped on that whole demon rebellion thing. He was at 1,567 bumps on the ceiling when he felt the bed dip and saw those worried eyes staring down at him.

“You're really quiet today.”

“Thought you'd like me better that way.”

“What's wrong?” Sam asked and there's a plea in that soft voice that he didn't want to answer. Instead, he rolled over onto his side and propped his head on his hand.

“What makes you think anything is wrong, Bigfoot?”

“Cause I know you and something's been eating away at you for a while now.”

“Nah, you're just seeing things.”

“Gabriel, what happened?”

He didn't want to have this conversation and his smirk faltered because he was breaking a little more each day wondering why he was still around. Why Dad hadn't come back to smite his sorry ass out of existence if He even loved him just a little bit.

“There's nothing to tell,” he said, pushing himself up to his knees and damn that kid was fast. One giant mitt on his wrist. It wouldn't keep him there, not really but he hesitated.

He kept hesitating recently, a bad trait he was developing.

“Please, don't go. I don't want to see you run away anymore.”

“What makes you think I'm running?” he asked and got narrowed eyes and he sighed. “Fine, alright. I hoped he could forgive me. He can't. End of story.”

“Did he say that?”

Gabriel decided to ignore the question in favor of shaking his arm, hoping to dislodge Sam like one would a large bug instead of just deserting him. Suddenly Sam's other paw was on his shoulder and he was looking at those big, sad eyes and he so didn't need that.

“Wanna let go?”

“No. There's more to this.”

“Kiddo -”

“Gabriel, would you talk to someone so we don't have another apocalypse?” Oh, Sam's face turned into a rather impressive scowl and he couldn't do this.

“Sam, just let it be.” He didn't even know why he was bothering to ask this human anything other than he didn't want to lose the one thing he had in his life anymore.

Being touched in any way by something real, not one of his constructs had been few and far between in his long existence in hiding. Things getting too close, spending too much time with him tended to start to pick up that he wasn't quite what he said he was, at least the non-human of the lot. Kali was a fine example of that little problem. And this, this right here, after Michael, was finally breaking him wide open. He had been so close, entwined in that grace, his brother's pain and love all around him and it was gone through his fingers all over again.

It would have been better to have never felt it again over this.

“Gabriel,” Sam said quietly, and he knows he's showing that loss before he can stop himself

Of course, because he was with an annoying human who never knows when to quit, regardless, he found himself in the next moment wrapped up in moose arms breathing in soap, sweat, and just Sam.

“Trying to suffocate me to put me out of my misery, kiddo?”

“You don't need to breathe,” Sam astutely said and Gabriel sighed because he was certain Sam was convinced he'd just be gone if he stopped this nonsense, given how the too large human was holder him tighter. "I need to tell you something and I think this might be the only time you might actually listen and keep your big mouth shut even if you stab me at the end."

"Sounds promising." 

He congratulated himself for not making the comment that if Dean wasn't an emotionally constipated ass who thought hugging was the start of a fight, maybe Sam could be doing this to his brother. Gabriel tried to steel himself that this human, this bag of too fragile flesh and bones, was about to kick him out because the past was rearing its ugly head.

“You know I forgive you, right?”

“You've gotten sappy; it's not becoming.”

That was all he had for that one and braced for impact on the incoming 'it's not you, it's me speech' because Sam still had that death grip on him and he wanted to vanish. It wasn't like he had to be here, he had a lot of wings, damn it, and as the humans put it, 'super-duper angel powers' and he could be gone without harm, out into the ether, maybe find a universe that didn't know him so he wouldn't be kicked out right away.

Since he seemed to be seeing things through to the bitter end lately, he felt it was only part of his new pattern he'd been working on to sit here and take this. It was what Sam wanted and he had screwed around enough with him for the kid to have earned a few seconds of telling him off.

“Doesn't mean I'm not still angry about what you did sometimes," Sam finally continued, voice surer since he was still here. "I mean, you are a poor teacher of life lessons. Why you didn't just say 'Your brother's coming back. By the way, killing Lilith frees Lucifer so don't murder the bitch' I'll never know. Or why you did what you did, giving up like that -”

“Sam, I -”

“And you're annoying and loud and unhelpful and you purposefully push all of Dean's buttons when he's around and make Cas get that terrible vexed look because you know it's going to take all night for Cas to calm him down and you do it just for shits and giggles –“

“Sam!” 

“But that's just who you are and I want you around.”

“Thanks. You made me sound like such a winner,” he said and heard an honest laugh. 

For once he was glad he was getting a face full of plaid so he wasn't actually seen during that ramble, that sheer relief he felt. Human, he reminded himself, Sam was a human and he was going to die one day and he'd be all out of friends and Mike would be pissed if he crashed Sam's heaven.

He needed to radically expand his social contacts, at least to things not wanting him dead on sight and preferably tolerable to talk to soon.

"Ah, Sam, going to ever release me here?"

“You going to run away?”

He let out a disbelieving sound as if Sam could ever think that, grounding himself a bit more. “Sammy, if you wanted me this badly -”

He knew the kid was rolling his eyes at him without even looking as he was pushed back on to the bed. As he bounced, smirk in place, he could see that scowl firmly set.

“I think you have enough men in your life.” Sam was stern and that was probably true. “So, he never said it wasn't because he doesn't forgive you.”

“Weren't you working on a case?”

"Gabriel, it's not going to get better if you don't figure out how to fix it."

"Not everything is a fixer-upper, kiddo."

"He wouldn't have done this, let all of us be if that was that."

Apparently, the whole 'let it go' lesson he had trying to impart years ago still hadn't sunk into that thick noggin.

But Sam was so dogged, something fierce in his face at this moment that Gabriel wanted to believe him. Made him want to say that it was true instead of just a last gift, the whole entire world that had been handed over to him, complete with his freedom, no matter how lonely the rest of time was. He didn't think his brother had intentionally done it to torture him but he had all the same. All of this had a strange feeling of emptiness, that if Michael wasn't a part of it any more than it wasn't worth having.

Thoughts he wasn't sharing ever and he considered his options.

Maybe if he just let out a bit of the truth the kid would shut up. It pained him how naive he had been, not a normal state of being for a creature like him that typically knew better because eons of experience had slapped him upside the head enough times. At least, when his curiosity didn't take over, and why Dad had made him with such a thing he didn't know because it was dangerous. It was what led him to the vessels, after all, which got him here with one of them deciding to embrace their unneeded advice side today.

He forced his mind blank because Sam was still waiting for an answer, patience tempered from years of dealing with a repressed dumbass, and he knew the kid was thinking about his brother, of how Dean had come back so that meant there was a chance for Michael to do the same.

Humans and their annoying hope.

"He made it pretty clear the last time, better than crystal."

“Why, what were you doing last time?”

Gabriel decided that debating the number of threads still in the orange dilapidated seat cushion was a good activity suddenly. After a minute he heard Sam swallow and a soft 'oh'. They sat in silence and Gabriel was slightly thankful that the kid got it without having to spell it out.

“You know, he may be terrified just like you, of losing you again.”

Or maybe not.

“Seriously, you are not Dear Abby, so -”

“Oh please. I know you. If you want something you go after it with everything you've got and you want this. It's like written all over you and you're scared.”

“Samuel Winchester,” he said, his eyes filling with light as he snapped his head back over to take in the giant, “I am an archangel. I am not terrified. I am not scared. It just is what it is.”

“You scared,” Sam responded simply with confidence, completely unfazed at the fact that he was seconds away from smiting. Not that Gabriel would, he’d never get over that complex. “Otherwise, if what you say is true – prove it.”

Before he could answer, the annoying other half of the magnificent duo swung the door open, carrying their dinner with Castiel trailing behind like a lost cat in need of attention. Gabriel relaxed and sprawled back out on the bed as Dean stopped cold.

“Seriously, Sam? With him?”

He applauded himself for the wounded look in Dean’s eyes as Sam got a glower.

“No, Dean, not with him. Not everything is about sex, ya know.”

“Besides, Deano, he's already got something on the side, if you know what I mean.”

“Gabriel!”

“Just returning the favor, kiddo.”

And he was gone, Sam's bellow following him as he laughed and tried not to think too hard about the rest of that terrible conversation they'd had.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

_We have all been falling ever since those seals locked into place_.

It was such a strange thought to have, especially here in heaven as he dwelled quietly watching things slowly become more organized once again, with the traitorous ones locked away, though he paid more attention to their treatment this time at the hands of the guards. Forbid their abuse as it led to nothing but an empty feeling of power that was as tangible as smoke was for a mortal.

This thought, though, had been plaguing him for so long that he had almost forgotten when it first occurred to him. When he had had enough of himself left at the time to realize what was happening.

A quiet voice reached him, one familiar and he still marveled at Sam Winchester praying to him of all angels. His were always tentative, as though he was disturbing heaven and he turned his focus to it to drown out all the other voices. Gabriel was hurting and Sam was worried about him.

He had felt how much fear Gabriel had of him although mixed with love and there wasn't a way to make that end, to undo the damage done. Even for something like him, the hands of time would not reverse, though he had tried once to get back what was lost and had driven him to be what he had become, poured all into loving Father so he could do what was needed.

There was a slight shift and he looked over to Raphael still in her vessel. Having her like this always made him think of what Adam had said about the entire situation.

Seeing her here now, this vessel suited her. Dark skinned, lithe with delicate features that showed the healer and belied the warrior. There was something about this one that matched her and he was glad that she at least was attempting to bond, to try to see them differently.

“Hello, Raphael.”

“Brother.” She nodded and returned her gaze over heaven, watching their little brothers. “I'm glad to have found you. I have the next one for you to try.”

Michael bit back a protest. His sister was now convinced that he was hallucinating Gabriel. Even Adam telling her about the meeting with Death, of everything up to that point, refused to budge her as she had wisely pointed out that he had released Adam before -

It was something that he did not want to relive so he pushed the thought away and simply gave a curt nod. He had learned that there were some things simply not worth arguing. It wasn't like he was even in a position anymore to ask Gabriel to at least let his sister know he was alive, not after their last meeting.

There was a small hand on his shoulder and he looked over at her, concern on her face.

“You wish to return to earth. Why don't you?”

It wasn't something that he wanted to answer so he stared resolutely towards the center where The Garden lay, hoping she would let it drop but then his family had always lacked what humans referred to as common sense.

“Michael.” She was pressing and there was a time when he would have lashed out at her, tore into her until she stopped weeping and became hard. Stopped asking those questions that he didn't want to be spoken because the wounds never healed. “Mikha'el, what has you so troubled?”

“It is none of your concern, Raphael.”

“You are my concern.”

“You are simply making sure I have not completely lost my mind yet.” His tone was harsher then he intended as her borrowed features hardened.

“Why must you make it so difficult?”

“Difficult?”

“To love you, why must you be so difficult?”

It was like speaking to Gabriel all over again, and he turned his face away more.

“I am sorry I am so unlovable.”

“This is just like you. I never said you weren't lovable, Michael, only that you make it so difficult to do so at times with how much you isolate yourself.”

“I will keep this in mind for your next lecture.”

It was a surprise when she lunged at him, even when he had seen her grace flare out casting silver through her vessel's eyes. There were no weapons and he allowed her to shove him against the barrier of another soul's heaven behind him as he analyzed where this was going. What she wanted from him.

“You can't keep doing this, Michael.”

“Doing what?”

“Being alone, cutting us all out. Father is dead -”

“Raphael,” he interrupted her, feeling his own anger start to rise. “You know that isn't true. Somewhere inside of you, I know you know this.”

“If He was truly alive I would have to hate Him,” she said simply and he struggled to keep his fury down, to not hurt her over such a blasphemy. “Since that cannot be, then He is dead.”

“Enough, Raphael!” his voice carrying more then he wanted. The choir would hear their fight at this rate. “I have heard enough of this kind of talk.”

He took her wrists and pried her off, managing to be mindful of her vessel and then took flight. To his dismay, she was right on his heels. She had always been fast, smaller and more delicate, agile in the way she moved even in a body. Much too close for him to try to slip through a pocket and lose her, she'd know where he went. She chased after him through the heavens of the souls in their charge as he contemplated where to go. There was no destination in mind with his movement; he hoped to just lead her along until she grew tired of the chase. He would always be faster.

She disappeared and he stopped after a few more steps to take in where he was when she slammed fully into him driving him into the ground of some poor soul's heaven, their impact causing a ripple enough to make the choir take notice.

“Raphael! What in Father's name are you -”

“Would you listen for once? For once in your long, stubborn life would you listen to someone?” she yelled, trying in vain to keep him pinned down. He could free himself but realized it would only mean being pursued again unless he started exerting more power.

He despised fleeing.

“What do you think I need to hear that I haven't heard before?” he snapped, hoping to appease her a little so they could stop this nonsense.

“I've been terrified of you for so long.” He stilled, the fight leaving him as he stared up at her, seeing her reflected in her vessel's eyes, ancient and tired. “Morning Star was poisoned and then you - you became so cruel, the perfect soldier, the perfect son. I think – I think that's when I truly began to hate Him, that He turned you into that.”

He couldn't reprimand her, feeling the depth of her pain flowing from her.

“Lucifer wouldn't stop until everything we had was destroyed.”

It felt a hollow excuse, now.

“I know, Mikha'el, I stood beside you as you cast him down. But why you? Why make you do something so terrible when all He had to do was raise a hand and our brother would have been wiped from existence, instead of being tortured into that thing? It would have stopped us all from being ripped apart. Did he care? Did he care about what we were forced to carry?”

“I don't know, little sister,” he said, the same question had entered his mind long ago, the first seed of doubt but he had pushed it aside then. He loved his Father, still loved Him, and he would have done anything asked at that time for Him.

“If He came back, would you do as He asked? If He asked you to kill me would you do it?”

Michael turned his head to the side. There was a cold sharp truth there that he didn't want to acknowledge because he didn't know if it was right or wrong.

“Would you kill me if He asked you to?” her voice was soft, love mixed with dread.

“No.”

“I thought I lost you a long time ago as my brother. You became my general and I followed you so that at least we would stand together in the end if that was all that was left.”

Michael pulled her all the way down into his arms and she came willingly. It had been so long since he had offered comfort, had anyone even look to him for it instead of cowering before him that he felt a bit lost. To his surprise, Raphael just laid her head on his shoulder, eyes closed, completely trusting. He could run her through with his blade and she would die before the realization hit.

He pulled her tighter to him, wanting to distract himself.

“How did you catch me?”

“I realized where you were going before you did. Really, Michael, I know you're upset when that happens,” she admonished, eyes still closed, as he took in which soul's heaven they were in.

He knew that the only reason Adam Milligan wasn't outside screaming at him for crashing into his front yard was his abject fear of Raphael. Not that he could blame the boy who was still in complete terror of an upcoming visit Raphael had promised and had somehow made it sound menacing even if she looked forward to it. It was surprising that she even wanted to be exposed like this where anyone could see them, let alone this soul. A small groan escaped him as he leaned his head back since he knew there would be an incoming tirade about this later and Father did not make him with infinite patience though he should have.

“He brought you back to me,” she murmured, seeming to guess what he was thinking.

“Sister?”

“Your little human, he's the one that helped return you when I thought you lost forever.”

“Even after -” he can't finish that statement, something he had yet to admit out loud. How he had crushed the boy's soul, not affected by the boy's screams, of his begging to stop, to get his yes. Then afterward, he had unintentionally almost suffocated him in his grief.

And that battered soul, when he had drawn back his grace enough for him to not feel like he was being smothered, had reached out and comforted him. The first creature that had seen him, what he kept locked deep and he had stayed.

“I know, brother, I helped you do it.” Raphael's soft voice pulled him out of the memories.

They couldn't stay here. With a thought, he moved them to a place the choir could not come, unsure of why he was taking Raphael with him. In the process, he shifted her so she was in his arms, head on his shoulder and he thought of Gabriel again.

“You should go to earth.”

“You're encouraging my delusions now?”

“I can't lose him again. So if he's real then you need to go fix whatever you did.”

“Why must you always assume I was at fault?” He was confused as to whether to be annoyed or angry when she made a soft, exasperated sound.

“I love you, Michael, but I also know you.”

He stroked her hair, marveling at the fact that the soul was awake in her, something he never thought his sister would do. It hummed, he could feel it under that flesh, and it offered solace. He wondered how it put up with his sister, though he decided he couldn't talk seeing who his true vessel was.

“And if I can't fix it?” 

“Then we will deal with that if it comes.”

“When did you get like this?” he asked, mystified how she felt like she had so long ago.

“I have always been smarter than you,” she replied haughtily.

“Perhaps more sanctimonious," he allowed. "Will you be alright with all of them for a while if I return to earth?”

“I will keep from exploding any of our little brothers until you return,” she said dryly. “But, Michael -” her voice stopped.

“Yes?”

“You won't forget me up here will you?”

Her voice was so fragile, it was the closest thing to vulnerable he had heard in her for so long and drew her closer.

“All you have to do is pray. All any of you have to do is pray.”

There was a slight nod as she relaxed again and he felt he could spare a few more minutes before going to face Gabriel.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

It had been months since Michael had been on earth. He hadn't been back since that night and he worried that maybe he wouldn't come back at all. At least he could feel him a bit when he was here, not the silence and deadness when he was in heaven.

He had had a busy day quietly setting up a serial adulterer who didn't care who he destroyed to get caught in the act. Had to make sure the guy was worthy of his attention and all. So, he set things in motion for the proper cameras to roll on the latest little tryst being currently set up and returned to his little piece of reality that he claimed as his to wait when he felt it.

Michael was back on earth.

There was a vague unease, uncomfortably close to panic, as he debated what to do. If his brother even wanted to see him again after last time when he had sounded so sure that they couldn't be. To keep going, well that was like slow torture, and going home wasn’t an option because he truly didn’t have one anymore.

Absolute worst-case scenario, his brother would show up and just stab him and some broken part of him feared to see the disappointment in those eyes, asking why he bothered to save him. Gabriel wasn't sure, outside of the fact he was positive he was messing up his second life. Maybe he should ask Castiel about multiple lives and how to get through them the next time he saw his little brother sans obnoxious human attachment.

The second worse, Michael just wouldn't come at all.

He'd just go see Sam and avoid all options, but Sam had totally settled on him being scared, asking if he just tried praying to his brother. It was the first thing out of the boy's mouth every time he landed there, complete with wide, sad moose eyes, and it was getting damn annoying. He wanted to prove Sam's whole little theory wrong. Standing here dithering like a moron, or worse, a tween anxious if the boy down the street would ever call wasn't getting him closer to that goal.

After a bit he answered Michael's call with one of his own, telling him where he was. Some rather domestic part of him that he would rather not acknowledge looked around to make sure his place was acceptable. It was a small house, out in the middle of nowhere in a quiet part of southern France. No one around for miles. No one came here as there was no road, and the existence of such an area slipped through the minds of humans as a dream. He had kept it sparse but formal. Leather black sofa, big screen TV, small kitchen and bedroom complete with human amenities that convinced him he had been on earth too long. There were splashes of color, antique paintings of angels that he had some strange, unexplained urge to collect on the walls but other than that, well, it wasn't much to look at.

He kicked himself over being worried if Michael would like it, that innate need to please him in all ways still strong despite him trying to suffocate it often.

So he stared out of the huge bay window that looked out on a field vivid with wildflowers where rain was softly falling, waiting, hoping for something. Finally, there was a flutter of wings and Michael was there, looking around him.

“I was expecting flashier.”

“I haven't done flashy in a while, kind of fell out of love with it.” He shrugged, surprised by the small creases on Michael's face that showed worry.

“It is quiet here.”

“One of the reasons I like it. Out of the way.”

He forced himself to look like they were just having a normal conversation as he watched Michael walk around and take in the paintings. There were several claiming to be of him after all, the warrior of heaven slaying evil and his brother studied them with an air of curiosity. Then he was standing beside him, looking at those fields in the rain and Gabriel just wanted to fall into him and get lost forever.

“I've known for a long time.”

“Known what?” he asked, feeling slightly off-balance.

“That Father wasn't coming home. Something deep inside me knew, probably since I was commanded to throw Morning Star into that place.”

Gabriel swallowed and kept looking out, wondering why he couldn't have been born as a blade of grass instead. It seemed like a much more agreeable existence.

“I always thought I wasn't good enough,” Michael continued, “but now I wonder if it was just the way it was to be.”

There were so many times Gabriel had wanted to scream at their Father as he watched Michael tear himself apart for all of them, to give everything for everybody else and never having what he wanted but now? Oh now, even if He came back he didn't know if he would ever speak to Him again.

“Michael -”

“Yes?”

Words wouldn’t come to explain what he was asking for.

There was a hand cupping his cheek and his head was turned and he could see those bright eyes staring at him. Michael was leaning down.

“I can't,” he whispered and the other stopped. He didn't even know if it was true, if he really couldn't or if he would just give into it each time.

“Little One?”

“I can't if you're going to leave again. I can't – I just can't do that.”

“I was planning on staying.”

“Like what, for the night?” Gabriel asked not letting himself feel hope and feeling foolish when he did.

“I mean for as long as you will have me. Of course, I have to go back and check periodically to make sure Raphael isn't burning down heaven or planning an invasion of earth. And, Gabriel,” he said, his voice serious, “she will be coming to visit and see you soon. You owe her at least that.”

He closed his eyes as that was not a visit he was looking forward to. He would expect a lot of screaming and yelling and Michael playing referee so they didn't demolish a whole country but he nodded. To have this, he could do that.

“Why now?” he asked, slightly afraid of the answer like Michael was settling or just doing this to make him happy.

“It was something Sam said.”

“Wait, Sam? As in Sam Winchester?”

“Yes, he's been praying to me.”

Gabriel swore to the heaven's that the next time he saw that boy something terrible was going to happen to that floppy hair. He so didn't feel a stab of jealousy that Sam was off praying to other angels, especially this one. Nope, not at all. Let alone the worry of what the kid was saying in these so-called prayers.

“So, what did Sam say?”

“He reads you better than you think, Gabriel, though he apparently actually likes your company.” Michael paused and Gabriel managed to resist the urge to sucker punch his brother. “He talked about how you aren't forgiving yourself. I haven't forgiven myself either.”

“Well, that's not just going to happen with a snap.”

“No, but we can move forward.”

Fingers tangled in his hair as Michael tipped back his head and kissed him deeply, slowly and he pulled that warm body closer feeling the grace within call out to him. He had left who he loved more than anything to face it all alone and he didn't know if he could forgive himself but he could try. For this, he could try. And Dear Dad, Michael learned fast as he felt his unneeded breath pulled right out of him before drawing back a little.

“You always thought of me as heaven's fire but you are my spark, Gabriel.”

“What, have you been indulging in poetry?”

There was a faint smile there but he could see the faraway look in those eyes as though they were seeing past him, to something not there. Or maybe a moment that wasn't anymore and, wow, he was getting just as bad.

“When he killed you, pushed a blade in without hesitation and taunted me when he heard my wail, everything went dark. I would have burned everything to dust, even heaven, to just end him because he took away my heart.”

“For the love of creation, do you always have to be so serious?” he complained, squirming under the implications of it all as Michael focused on him and he could see adoration. Adoration that he most definitely didn't deserve but longed for all the same.

“I always knew you were alive after you left. It wasn't enough, but it was something. I clung to it, hoping one day you would love me again.” Michael was cupping his face, rubbing his thumbs in slow lazy circles that felt so real that he thought at any moment it would be ripped away as an illusion. “When I found you, what he had done, only you kept me from bringing all this down into fiery ruin.”

That was enough and he pulled that mouth down to his own as he had to make it shut up somehow and he couldn't be that important. He didn't think he should be trusted with something as grave as Michael. So he made him be quiet, he couldn't hear things like that right now, not when this was still slightly brittle.

His eyes were still closed, everything buried in that heat of Michael's grace, the fire that had blazed so bright long ago surrounded him. Embers brought to life once again in a sputtering gasp and he tried not to cry out at the sensation of it. The chill of the years of isolation in him melted away under their weight. All the anguish burned out in an instant as he felt the inferno that Michael was through him and all he needed, wanted, was here and offering even if he didn't deserve it. Had thought it lost and gone forever when everything was falling around them all that time ago.

Although he was still going to do something to Sam's hair he decided as Michael laid him down on the sofa, his restlessness finally evaporating under Michael's very busy hands.

“Gabriel,” Michael growled into his ear, low and commanding, “stop plotting against Sam Winchester.”

Definitely something pink.


End file.
